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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23822032">Miller's Diaries</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/amand00my/pseuds/amand00my'>amand00my</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Splatoon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Politics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:15:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,252</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23822032</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/amand00my/pseuds/amand00my</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when you're the leader of one of the Earth's oldest countries after a massive atomic war accelerated the end of the Modern Era and kickstarted the beginning of a new -yet stirred- world? </p><p>The President of the Federal Republic of New Spiedska, Amanda K. Miller, finds herself in a sharply divided globe. However, as she succesfully rose up to lead one of North America's strongest and more prosperous nations, the public tends to see her more as a leader, as a visionary, but not as a human, or well, inkling. Her own experiences before, during and after her rise to national prominence have greatly shaped her way of leadership and her relationships with fellow politicians and world leaders; allied and enemy alike.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Miller's Diaries</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Uhhhhh, hi! Basically, this is my first story, yeah. May not be good, may not be bad! Who knows? By the way, expect the rythm of uploading new chapters to be, uh... erratic because I only write when I feel like it (Writer's block is a fucking bitch). I'm really not good at preambling, so, enjoy!<br/>Oh also, if you have any constructive criticism or ideas, please do be sure to comment them!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>October 12, 2146</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Oxbury, Federal Republic of New Spiedska</em>
</p><p>Well, it is almost midnight... and what am I doing? Vibing to some tunes of really good music from one of my favorite videogames. It is a videogame that, in a manner I can't exactly describe. I really can't. I won't say what videogame it is, but it brings me clarity, you know? Ever since I found myself leading this country, ever since I won the presidential elections, I have not been the same. Interpret that as you will; good or bad. For better, or for the worse. Has it made me a more mellow person because I connected with the people and they trusted in <em>me </em>and not the other two candidates? Perhaps. Did it make me more distant and forget the meaning of interacting with other people outside of a political context? That's also a possibility. I won't deny the latter or accept the former: If there's something I could tell a future president, it'd be the fact that pleasing everyone, with radical policies, is as idiotic as believing in the idea motherfuckin' pigs can fly. Sure, those people sound too dumb to even exist, but let me remind you. There are people who, for some reason, believe that being a radical is good! They say I am a fencesitter... but if I am that, then the fence on which I sit on is made out of gold, and adorned with beautiful jewels of all colors for good measure. Heh... </p><p>Political ramblings aside, I... am not doing that well. Why am I vibing along some tunes, humming them as I slowly slip into the bliss that is sleep? You can guess why. Sometimes, when I stop doing presidential work, I just lay down in my bed in one of the many rooms of the quartz house. Sure, I may have my own presidential residence, but I don't care. I wouldn't mind, at all, if I lived in an apartment. Frankly, this place is disorienting sometimes... so many rooms, so many assistants, so many important people that occasionally happen to be here... it all takes a tax on your mind, you know? </p><p>Wait. Where was I? Agh! Right. Why have I mentioned twice I'm humming along with some tunes of a game that is, like, 130 years old by this point? Tangents aside, I have a lot of fond memories for a game that most people would consider just an antique, a relic from old times not made out of rock -like sculptures- or carefully drifted, colored liquids -like paintings-, but out of zeros and ones. In case this description does not give it away entirely: I am talking about videogames. Now, I wish I am not sounding like one of those old fossils who scream at the sky about 'kids these days', but I don't feel like games nowadays are what they used to be. I look back at more than a century ago; games were beautiful back then. Coders were artists, they were people who put love into their craft as a way to flip off the commercialized-beyond-belief modern videogames industry. Ugh, I have the need to screech when someone mentions companies like Virtual Arts... so many fabricated, fake games only made by fat human CEOs to line up their already filled pockets with more cash because reasons. However, I'm glad that after that company got obliterated in 2021, a new golden era of sorts took place in the videogame industry; such a shame the War started some years after. </p><p>But, yeah... I'm talking too much, aren't I? Well, I am slowly slipping into sleep, as the sweet, peaceful and calm tones of this soundtrack make me remember different times, times where I seemed to be actually happy. I'm drifting into sleep, remembering...</p><p>...</p><p>
  <strong>May 8, 2133</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Roseport, Federal Republic of New Spiedska </em>
</p><p>It's a new day. I am happy! I don't even know how I got into this situation, but I love it a ton! My school grades are stable, even improving; my career at the University of Roseport is practically guaranteed at this point; my girlfriend, Sophie, seems happier than ever before, considering everything she has gone through... though, this feels suspicious. It feels almost eerie, you know? Like, I feel it's one of those times that mother life just throws at you happy things and then BAM! she hits you with a really bad thing that bums you out and makes you feel miserable for a fuckton of time. </p><p>However, I know that I have to brush those thoughts aside. After all, where has that gotten me? Exactly; nowhere. Self-loathing has gotten me nowhere, paranoia has gotten me nowhere. If I look back, especially just two years ago... yeah, that wasn't good. I didn't feel like living, honestly. I Didn't feel like doing anything: I just felt like being on my bed all day listening to sad songs was the pinnacle of existence. People need to know this kind of stuff is a self-feeding loop: the less stuff you do, the weaker and shittier you feel, which leads to, well, being in a shittier place in life. I'm glad I jumped out of that mess, partly thanks to Sophie. She's the light of my life. Where would I be without her... I... I don't know. I don't <em>want </em>to know where I would be without her. Being without my girlfriend, being without the person that has helped me, that I have helped, that I share so many memories that I hold close to my heart. Ugh. That seems sad. </p><p>As I brush the yet-lingering self-loathing thoughts away from my brain, hopefully permanently though it's likely just temporary, I get up from my bed and look at the sun of the city of Roseport, also named the <em>City of Roses </em>for obvious reasons. I mean, it's literally in the name of the city! This city is beautiful; she's a beautiful ship, or well, a city. My life would be drastically different if certain events could have turned out different, now that I think about it... if I wasn't that dorky in the party two years ago she wouldn't have kissed me. If mom and dad weren't put in the same sector at that company many years ago... yeah, safe to say that neither I nor Jewel, my younger sister, would even be born. It's crazy to think about. The chance of you existing is so goddamned small! </p><p>I scratch my still itching tentacle, aquatic-colored hair as it's proving to feel funny. That was normal. I yawn; not taking my glance off of the beautiful sun of Roseport. Turning back, I see my usually messy bedsheets. Chuckling, I remember the times where my gf was at my place. Yeah... you can guess that my bedsheet was a witness to not exactly the most Christian stuff. Whatever. I don't care what those human weirdos think. I'm happy with her, we love to have our fun, both outside and in my house. I don't care about their opinion, they are just a bunch of pathetic losers that don't have anything to do with their existence other than try to attack other people for committing the 'sin' that is loving the same gender. Well, tell ya what? Girls are beautiful. Nobody's making me think otherwise, nobody will make me think otherwise.</p><p>Okay, I really, <em>really </em>need to stop monologuing. I need to get ready for school. Today's going to be a long day...</p><p> </p>
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